The Gift of Peace
by samanddianefan10
Summary: Margaret needs Hawkeye more than ever after the birth of their baby girl. Can Hawk draw from his own demons and give her the strength she desperately needs?
1. Chapter 1

The name Shiloh Olivia Pierce translates into the gift of peace. It was a name befitting the daughter of two Korean War veterans. She was born with her father's coal black hair and piercing eyes and her mother's healthy set of lungs. (According to her daddy, that is. Her mother did not appreciate that running joke one bit.). Shiloh was born with her father's lackadaisical sense of timing; she was two weeks early. The doctors had been preparing Margaret and Hawkeye for a late delivery and so he had scheduled his vacation for the last two weeks of Margaret's pregnancy. Fate and Shiloh had different plans. Fortunately he worked at his father's office and could rearrange his vacation hours without a problem. The important issue, getting to spend the first two weeks of his daughter's life with her, had been resolved. And now it was time for Mom, Dad, and baby to share the unique experience of adjusting to the new family dynamics. Margaret was no longer the only girl in Hawkeye's life. Hawkeye was no longer the center of the household. How these roles would be affected and how they would affect the Peirce's marriage, only time would tell. But for right now it was time to enjoy sweet innocent Shiloh. The gift.

At age two weeks, the first full week of bringing Shiloh home from the hospital….

Hawkeye crawled into bed with his blonde wife and the baby. The chestnut headboard blended perfectly with the matching chest-of-drawer set that had belonged to Margaret's mother.

"Mother." He lovingly whispered. "She's absolutely beautiful.. Just like her mom."

He reached over to touch the baby's head.

"Sssh. Don't. "I'm feeding her." Margaret said, irritated. The baby had difficulties with the bottle and Margaret refused to let anyone, not even Hawkeye, mess up the feeding. He'd just have to wait a while before visiting her. Margaret had already tried several different positions and had just settled in before Hawkeye barged in the room. Uncharacteristically, she felt like crying.

"Margaret, I've just came up to see her…I haven't gotten a chance to hold her today. Let me have her." He reached out for Shiloh who was busy trying to drink from the bottle but having difficulties. She was beginning to cry out of frustration, not a full wail but a cry nonetheless..

"Hawkeye!" she declared. "Are you out of your mind! You're distracting her! She needs to concentrate. You just can't come in here right now. Just go. We'll talk about this later. I don't have time to deal with you right now. Can't you see how busy I am?"

Margaret rearranged her position, trying to calm the baby in the process. The baby lay against her rose-colored shirt. It hurt her to be so bossy with her own husband but at the same time she was irritated at his lack of common sense. She was too tired to have to explain everything to him. She was worn out, exhausted from the birth and a slow recovery. It was all she could do to get up in the mornings and shower before the baby woke up. She started her husband's coffee and breakfast, although the smell still made her sick, a habit leftover from her pregnancy days. But she did it because she loves Hawkeye. So if all she needed was an hour alone to feed her baby than that certainly shouldn't be too much to damn expect! Just one hour where she could be alone with her daughter….she knew she would come up against some oppression. Daniel, for one, may not understand the importance of her alone time. Hawkeye may not either. At this point Margaret was afraid that she was expected to be front and center at all times, like some dime store ballerina. That was not her. And that's sure as hell not the way her daughter would be raised as well. Margaret would be polite and cordial, but she would not back down from her need to be alone with her daughter. And then there was the question of Hawkeye's role in the baby's life.

Margaret knew that he was going to be a wonderful father. She knew that he needed time to form his bond without Margaret's interference. She needed to trust him, and that would be hard for her to do. Not because of him, it was just that it would be hard for her to trust her daughter's life with anyone. She knew without a doubt that her husband would be a wonderful father. She had no reservations about him personally, only the natural ones that most new parents feel after the birth of a new child.

"Fine. I can see when I am not wanted." Hawkeye huffed as he left the cream-colored bedroom with rose panels.

"You don't need to be like that." Margaret whispered.

The baby started to cry, and so she had to reposition her yet again. Margaret sighed. She wanted more than anything to go after Hawkeye and tell him how much she loved him. How much she loved what he was trying to do. But she had to think of the baby. Shiloh was learning to feed and needed quiet. Now was not the time to get stressed, she told herself. So she looked down at the beautiful head of hair on her newborn and she caressed it. She started to sing "My Blue Heaven" in a soft voice. That had always been one of her favorites. She had even sung it many times during the war. If you would have told her back then that she would be singing it to her and Hawkeye Pierce's child, she would never have believed you. Life was just funny that way.

Hawkeye left, saddened by the preceding events. He paced the floor of the hallway, deliberating his next move. Should he return to his bedroom and insist on seeing his daughter? Realistically speaking, that wasn't an option. That would only alienate her further and quite frankly, cause a huge argument. Margaret was a passionate woman, which is one of the things he loved most about her. He would never ask her to be anything other than herself. Being a mother was sure to bring out the best in her. The whole nine months he'd imagined what kind of mother she would be. They would have their differences in opinions, that was to be expected. But he was not prepared to start disagreeing already. All she had to do was ask for help. He did not mind. It was hard for him not to feel left out. The past week she had insisted on doing everything by herself. She had not even let him do so much as change a diaper, not that he had really minded that part. Margaret always was quite independent. But this was different. This was their child she was dealing with. Maybe all she needed was time to adjust. Perhaps his father could offer some advice. After all, he had been through this before.

"What's eating you, son?" he asked as he sharpened his knife.

"Nothing." He said, his tone revealing a deep sadness.

"Don't give me that. You look like something the dog dragged in. I would think you'd be on cloud nine with that little one of yours rather than hanging in here with your old man." Daniel said as he placed the knife in the lock box.

"Not my fault. Margaret doesn't want me anywhere near the baby. God only knows why. I haven't done anything wrong. I went down to peek at my daughter and I got shooed out. Margaret practically bit my head off just for being in that room. All I wanted to do was make sure they were all right. Serves me right, I guess for being a caring father."

Hawkeye sighed as he sat at the side of the bed. He stared at the foot of the bed, knowing that he should have been in his own bedroom at that very moment. It was not right that Margaret shut him out of his very own room. He would have understood if she had been angry if he had been neglectful of her needs. But all he had wanted to do was help her out, and for that he had been turned away.

"Now, Hawkeye, you now, she's tired, she's been through a lot, she's just came home from the hospital…give her some time. She'll be all right." Daniel offered, giving Margaret the benefit of the doubt. "After all your mother acted a bit squirrely after you were born. It's something all women go through."

Daniel could see that his son was troubled, but believed that things would work themselves out. After all, Margaret was still getting used to being a mother. These things took time. Having a new baby in the house was a huge adjustment for everyone, especially Margaret. Back in his day the father steered clear of the woman while she recovered. Things were different now, and so he did not have the best of advice to offer his son.

The younger Pierce scratched his head. "I hope you're right. This is nothing. I'm making a big deal out of nothing. She's just tired. I would be too after going through what she's been through. I'm a doctor, I should be more understanding. I'm going to let her sleep for a bit. It's going to be alright."

He wasn't so sure he believed his own words.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later, the former head nurse had still not been able to settle much into a routine. She had woken up early to fix Hawkeye and Daniel their favorite breakfast of pancakes and bacon. Wearing her favorite tattered flannel pajamas, covered by her faded pink robe, a souvenir from the war, she was careful to avoid any grease from splattering on it. It was time to wear her new robe, a more practical one, but she just wasn't ready to give up the one thing that had been a constant reminder of her femininity during the most difficult years of her life.

She was not ready to surrender it to the practical cotton lavender robe Hawkeye had picked out for her. But she recalled how she'd cried when he'd given it to her. She thought he'd been so insensitive, not knowing just how much her old robe had meant to her. It would be like her asking him to give up his red robe. He still wore that every morning, and she would never dream of replacing it. But he could do that to her, and that was supposed to be okay? She looked around in the kitchen, and everything she saw was Hawkeye. It was his house filled with his memories. Just as she had done in the war, she desperately wanted to cling to her robe as a reminder of her own presence in the foreign environment. It was a statement, of such, suggesting that she would be heard and on her terms. She would not conform entirely to the house rules of men. She had a few rules of her own that she lived by, right or wrong, and she would not give up her favorite robe just to blend in with the mood of the men of the Pierce household. They would have to adjust to her attire. This was a non-negotiable. The pink robe was in.

"Good …something smells delicious down here." Hawkeye eagerly approached his wife to kiss her, but she shrugged her shoulders.

"Where's the baby? Don't tell me you left her alone! You can't do that."

"She's snoozing away. The door's open and we'll be able to hear her when she wakes up. She was up all night. Let her sleep. Now where was I?" he approached her again, this time kissing Margaret's neck as he wrapped his arm around her neck.

This time she didn't protest as she watched the light brown pancakes cook unto their proper shade. The sound of bacon frying permeated the air as Margaret allowed herself to momentarily relax in her husband's embrace. For the first time in over 24 hours she was comforted by his presence.

"The food…" she picked up the turner as she nudged Hawkeye away. The golden brown pancakes were now ready and she flipped them onto a nearby plate.

He grinned as he sat down to the table. Daniel walked downstairs, oblivious to the displays of affection.

"Good morning, all." Daniel greeted the two as he picked up the morning paper. As was his custom, he was the first household member to read it first thing in the morning. He looked around to see if his coffee was ready, and it appeared to be.

"Don't worry, Daniel, I'll get it." Margaret offered. As she poured the cup of coffee, the mug slipped and coffee spilled all down her robe.

"No, no, no!" She exclaimed."This is ruined, absolutely ruined! Coffee stains. I'll never be able to get this out!"

Hawkeye walked briskly to her. "It's okay, honey. You have that other one, remember…."

She looked at him with disgust as her eyes brimmed with tears. "It is most certainly not okay. You just do not understand. It will not be okay! This is horrible! Horrible! Now if you'll look after the food I need to be excused. The irritation in her voice was unmistakable.

After mopping up the coffee, she took a deep breath in, silently cursed and calmly walked away.

Hawkeye knew that breathing technique all too well. This is when she needed to be held the most. She could become quite attached to certain things, and this article of clothing was one of them.

"Dad, could you take over? I need to go and look after her." His voice betrayed the calm he was projecting with his words.

"Of course, son. You just go and take care of your wife. I've got everything down here under control." Daniel said as he made his way towards the stove.

He grabbed a plate and laid the bacon down on it. Breakfast was now ready. He sat down at the table and looked around at the photos on the dining room wall. So many memories of Hawkeye filled the room. One particular photograph stood out. It was Hawkeye's first day in the fifth grade. He was missing his front tooth. Hawkeye nonetheless made for quite the photo. He remembered that day because the day before he had gone fishing with his father. The photo was placed prominently to make sure that everyone who passed by had the chance to hear all about Hawkeye's big catch of the day. And now there would be memories of Hawkeye's own child to fill this house.

Upstairs, Margaret sat down on the bed after throwing her robe to the floor. The battle was already lost in her mind. She placed her head in her hands and began to silently sob. Tears fell so easily that she surprised herself with the intensity of her emotions.

Shiloh slept blissfully in her crib in her own room. The room had been carefully decorated with an animal theme. It suited the little girl just fine as she seemed to be a lot less fragile than most newborns. She was strong and healthy and determined to make a success of her bottle feeding, no matter how long it took her. Already she was very much her parents' child.

"Are you alright? You haven't come down for breakfast and the food's getting cold." Hawkeye asked his wife as he knocked on the wooden door. The door, which would have once been slammed shut, was now left wide open. It was a reminder of the new purpose in Margaret's life.

"No. I'm getting dressed." she replied, wiping the tears from her eyes. She certainly did not want her husband to see her as what she would describe as a basket case.

Instead of honoring her request, he walked in anyways. It was his bedroom, after all. What was the worst that could happen? He could walk in on her in a state of undress, but that certainly wouldn't have been the first time. She'd be angry with him, but again, that definitely would not be the first time for that, either. It would be worth the risk if only he could find out how she was doing with his very own eyes.

But she was fully clothed, sitting on the edge of her bed with her head hung low. She looked up long enough to give him a dirty look, furious that he had ignored her. Ashamed, he quickly looked away.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed was that the wallpaper was beginning to come unglued in by the dresser. Why couldn't he have noticed that before the baby was born? He could have kicked himself. Now it would have to wait months until he could reapply the paint and arrangements would still have to be made for Margaret and the baby.

Hawkeye looked down at the robe on the floor, knowing that that was the sort of thing that would drive his wife crazy. Now if it were up to him it could lie on the floor for two weeks and it would not bother him a bit. Seeing one of Margaret's favorite articles of clothing lying on the floor greatly disturbed him. It was not like his wife to give up so easily and it was a bit disconcerting to see her like that. That was not the Margaret he knew so well.

"I wanted to see how you were doing. You know…I think we might be able to get that out." He picked it up, trying desperately to hide the doubt in his voice. "It doesn't look that bad. I'm sure it will come right out."

She very much doubted him. They exchanged glances, both knowing that this was about something more than just the robe. Something was on Margaret's mind that was deeply troubling her and she looked at her husband with a hundred mile stare. Taking care not to rush her, he gently sat beside her and took her hand. She did not return the hold, but she did not pull away either. He suddenly felt like an intruder in his own bedroom as he sensed her vulnerability. Silently he resolved not to do anything that would suspend her spirit in any way. If Hawkeye was experiencing a myriad of emotions, he could only venture a guess as to what his wife was feeling.

"I've made such a big deal about this, haven't I?" Margaret finally spoke up in a hushed tone of voice. "I've ruined breakfast. Maybe you should go downstairs and eat. I'll be alright."

"Hey. I'll take one of your cold breakfasts over a warm army 'meal' which constituted as cruel and unusual punishment any day of the week.' I can wait."

"I can reheat it for you. I don't want you to have to eat cold food. That's ridiculous. Don't ever think that you'd ever have to do such a thing around here." Margaret spoke up with all of the care of a devoted wife.

"I don't care about cold food. What I care about is seeing how worked up you were just a minute ago. You were crying and in pain and I wish there were something I could do to help. I cannot stand seeing you hurting."

"Do you know what that robe reminds me of?"

"The war. I know." He stroked her hair. "But it's over now. You're here now."

"But that's just it. I do think about it! I think of all the hell I went through. Of all the sounds and the sights. You know how I feel about loud noises. There were times I thought I was going to die. And you know what? I don't want to forget that. Especially not now. Now that I have a new life, I don't want to take a single moment for granted. I feel so blessed. I'm married and I have a baby. If you would have told me a year ago that I'd be living in Crabapple Cove I'd have recommended you for a section 8. We're lucky, you and I. We made it through hell and back and we saw so many men who didn't. Or if they did they didn't make it in one piece.

" Just because everyone saw me as tough didn't mean that there weren't times I didn't feel like falling apart. I kept it together because I had to. I had no other choice. I owed it to myself and to those men to keep going. If I didn't keep on going then who would? When Donald –my own husband- called me 'sturdy' I realized that that's how the world saw me. Good old reliable Margaret. There's more to me than just sturdiness. I'm a good cook. I can sew up a storm. I'm good at needlepoint. I love to read. I do a mean Lindy. I'm a hell of a nurse. I excel in a man's world. And now I'm a wife and a mother. So if being sturdy prepares me for all of these things than so be it." Margaret paused.

" The nurses used to wonder why I came down so hard on them. You used to wonder that too. I expected them to do their best because I believed that the patients deserved the best. No one was going to get short-changed as long as I was around. I don't know, that's just the way I was raised. My dad refused to let me settle for anything less than the best so that's what I expected of myself. Sometimes that's a burden greater than I think that I can bear. It's what kept me from making friends at the 4077. There were plenty of times where I would have loved to have sat down with the girls for a cup of coffee and joined in with the latest round of gossip. Was I ever asked? Did you ever see me eating dinner with the nurses? No. That's one of the sacrifices you make when you put your career ahead of your personal life.

"So you're probably wondering where my pink robe fits in to all of this. Well pink just so happens to be my favorite color. You are the only person in the world who knows that. And I'm sure if anyone else knew that that they would drop dead of shock. Who would think that Margaret Houlihan Pierce would have a soft spot for pink? Well I'm just as feminine as the next girl. I just keep it hidden because I have to, not because I want to. I love flowers and picnics, as you know. I love the things that all little girls want. I just have to be myself, only better."

Hawkeye admired his wife more than ever. It was amazing how he learned something new about her every day. He had never stopped to think about how hard she had to fight to make it in the army. Remembering the days when he used to give her such a difficult time, he now felt badly for not understanding why she was the way she was. A big part of it had to do with the company she was keeping at the time, Major Frank Burns. And the other part was that she had no choice but to fight for whatever rights she had. It could not have been easy for her. Margaret was not handed anything in her life, that much was certain.

"I want you to know how proud of you I am. I know that you don't have it easy. You've accomplished so much. I am sorry that I haven't always realized that." He added sincerely.

He noted the gleam in her eyes and was decided that he ought to tell her more often how proud of her he was.

Hawkeye and Margaret shared a familiar and comforting embrace before sharing a kiss.

"I love you, Margaret." He said affectionately.

"I love you, too." She returned the gesture.

Just then Shiloh interrupted the moment with a cry. She was so young that the parents couldn't yet decipher the type of cry it was, but it was a safe bet that she was hungry.

"I'll get the…" Margaret started before realizing how much help her husband could be. "Will you get the baby? I'll wash the robe."

Hawkeye grinned, eager to offer his assistance. "Be glad to, Mother."

Hawkeye felt some relief knowing his wife was able to talk through some of her stress. Hopefully that was all that was on her mind. With the division of the chores assigned, the Pierces started off their day on a better note. That is, until six hours later until the robe dried. It was completely ruined. Margaret was devastated once she saw it. She'd been sitting at the table, feeding Shiloh her bottle when Hawkeye brought it in from outside.

Dejected, he raised the garment up to her eye level so that she could inspect the damage. Just as she had suspected, it was ruined beyond repair.

"Darling…" she started in a softer tone of voice. "Would you take the baby for a little bit? I have a splitting headache and I think I'd like to lie down.

"Of course. Make sure you take some aspirin." Hawkeye reminded her as he took the baby and cradled her in his arms.

Once upstairs, Margaret threw herself down on the bed and began to sob. She placed the pillow over her head so that no one would hear her. But she cried. The tears flew freely from her eyes down to the bed and she just did not care. As far as Hawkeye and Daniel knew she was taking a nap. It seemed that her days were a lot tougher than she thought they would be, and she would just have to take care not to let anyone know how she was really feeling. She could pretend. If Margaret was good at anything it was pretending. No one would ever know how she was feeling, especially Hawkeye.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you so much to Nooni for taking the time to read my work and offer suggestions. I've learned so much from you. And readers, there are major spoilers for Goodbye, Farewell and Amen in this chapter.**

Several weeks later, Margaret was not the only one feeling the strain from having a new baby in the house. Hawkeye was back to work full time, and he was not sleeping very well. Once the baby woke him up he had difficulties getting back to sleep. Being a war veteran, one would assume he would be able to enjoy sleep no matter what the circumstances were. But both Hawkeye and Margaret were having troubles adjusting to the schedule of a new baby.

"What time is it?" grumbled a drowsy Hawkeye as Shiloh woke up the couple from a solid slumber.

Margaret checked the alarm clock. "Too early. Three a.m. Try to get some sleep. You have to get up soon."

"Do you want me to get her?", he rolled over.

"No. I've got her." She rose out of bed.

"Hawkeye…Come here!" Margaret called out from the baby's room. "Hurry."

He ran out of the room as fast as he could.

"What is it?" He looked at the baby.

Shiloh looked up at Hawkeye and sure enough a smile, the first real smile, spread slowly across Shiloh's face. She grinned first at Margaret and then at Hawkeye. She was smiling so big it looked as if her cheeks might break.

"Oh, honey….Daddy's so proud of you!" Hawkeye smiled back. "She has my smile, you know."

"Yes, she does." Margaret happily agreed. The couple enjoyed the moment in silence for a moment.

"Ok, now, I have to feed her, you know. She'll be up all night if I stop and play. It's not good for her schedule if we add in play time." Margaret spoke up.

"Oh okay. Bye bye now." Hawkeye hesitantly walked away, knowing that his daughter was watching him the whole time. He turned around and she smiled at him again.

"Aw Margaret, can't I…"

"No. Sorry. Schedule."

Finally Hawkeye left and Margaret attended to the baby. By the time she finished changing, feeding, and putting the baby back to bed, Hawkeye was wide awake. Margaret was surprised to return to a fully lit room and found her husband propped up on his pillow browsing through his latest medical journal. It was the most boring reading material he could find, and yet it was not helping. He looked at his watch.

Margaret crawled in bed next to her husband. "Can I fix you some warm milk? You can't go on like this."

"Don't you think I know that?"

Wounded, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Sleep or don't sleep. It makes no difference to me. Just shut the light off will you? I'm exhausted and I don't know how long it will be before Shiloh wakes back up. You know I can't sleep with the light on."

"Of course.", he replied nonchalantly. "You know, I think I'm going to head downstairs to read for a bit. I will see you at breakfast."

Hurt, she did not answer. Instead she rolled over, taking the blankets with her. Too tired to argue with her husband, she rolled over and collapsed into an automatic sleep. She spread out into her husband's space, and his absence was noted. She did not want to make a habit out of this. Perhaps one night on the couch would give Hawkeye the change of scenery he needed to get the sleep that was evading him. Margaret was just too tired to put up a fight this time, but if he tried it a second time he could be sure she'd have plenty to say about his leaving her all alone in their bedroom. As it was, she'd deal with it in the morning, once she could focus on something other than that much needed sleep that was calling her name.

Once she woke up, she rolled over instinctively looking for Hawkeye. It was close to time for him and Daniel to leave for work. After feeding and changing the baby, it was time to make breakfast for everyone. She threw on the lavender robe although she still had not gotten used to it. And then she went downstairs to make breakfast.

She set the baby in the playpen that was set downstairs for her and then got to work in the kitchen fixing oatmeal. After starting coffee for Daniel and Hawkeye, who were pouring over the newspaper, she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

"Looks like it will be a nice weekend. Maybe it's time to pull the old grill out and throw some chicken out for a barbeque. What do you say, Margaret? Hawkeye and I can handle all the cooking. All you would have to do is take care of the little one."

"I'd love it! And of course I'd be glad to make my famous macaroni salad. And I can finish it off with an apple pie. This sounds wonderful. I can hardly wait."

"I like chicken." Hawkeye spoke up in a faraway voice. " You can grill chicken, bake chicken, kabob chicken, make them into a salad, fry them, and stir fry them."

The train of thought, the mention of 'chicken', combined with a lack of sleep and a lot of stress was taking a toll on Hawkeye. Margaret wasn't the only one with some demons to fight. Images of Hawkeye grilling chicken brought back flashbacks of B.J. grilling out hot dogs on the beach back in July, right before the end of the war, right after he was released from the hospital. It was the day he saw B.J. holding a little girl in his arms celebrating her "birthday". Hawkeye remembered it all so clearly, including how he'd had to walk away from the whole scene. It had been too soon since his own breakdown for him to be around children. The wounds were still too raw. And yet there life was going on right in front of him as if nothing had happened. Nothing had happened to B.J. Or to that little girl. Or to Margaret for that matter.

Here he was, having these thoughts and he sure couldn't talk to anyone about them. He could not talk to Margaret, the one person he needed to talk to but couldn't. Maybe these thoughts would pass. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. Hawkeye realized he was treading on dangerous ground thinking about that baby on the bus. He knew he could never forget it, of course, but he it was something he tried not to think about. It was just too disturbing.

_Why now? Why me? I've moved on. I've worked so hard to get past that. I can't just stop everything to think about that now. Margaret needs me. Shiloh needs me. I can't talk to my own wife about this. I have to talk to someone about this or I'll go nuts. Why is this coming up now? Everything was going so good. I have my wife, the baby, everything was so perfect. I can't afford to deal with this stuff now. I just can't think about it. That's all there is to it. But now I'm scared more than anything that I'll lose my noodles again. And there's so much more to lose. Margaret and the baby need me. I've got to keep it together. But how?_

As Hawkeye drummed his fingers on the kitchen table, all he could think about was that Korean woman smothering her own child, and for the life of him he could never understand the thoughts that were going through her mind at the moment. Where was she at now? What must she be going through? If he was suffering over it, he could only imagine the torment that she must live with on a daily basis knowing that she would never watch her child grow up. Hawkeye at least had access to medical care to help him deal with the effects of the trauma, which was more than he could say about the poor woman. It was a safe bet to say that the child's death was something the woman was not allowed to speak of. Not that it was something he cared to talk about, not even with Sidney. How he had hated the psychiatrist for getting him to recall the incident. Why bring to light an incident that would haunt him for the rest of his life, Hawkeye wanted to know. Sidney explained that was the only way for him to get better, but it was a hell of a way.

As Hawkeye lost himself in the bitter memories, he halfheartedly stirred the oatmeal that Margaret had placed in front of him. He hadn't even remembered her setting it down, but the aroma had helped to bring him back to reality. The strong smell of coffee hit the air and diverted his attention to the breakfast. His dad had been talking but he had no clue what he had been saying.

"There goes the baby. Darling, would you mind getting her? I'm just about finished with my breakfast." Margaret asked.

"Actually, I'm pretty worn out. Would you be able to get her?" Hawkeye asked, distracted.

"I'll be glad to get her. Nothing much in the paper but bad news anyhow." Daniel said, setting the paper down. He stood up and made his way over to the playpen.

Once Daniel was out of earshot, Margaret sighed loudly, signaling her disapproval at Hawkeye's inability to help out. Normally Hawkeye would jump at the chance to hold his daughter but he wasn't ready to face her, not until he could cleanse his mind. His daughter adored him, there was no question about that. She was so sweet and so trusting. If there she had any idea of the man he'd become in the war than would she still feel the same way about him? Would she love him no matter what? That was the beauty of a child. They did not care about the parents' past. They only loved them for who they were at the present. Shiloh's momma was starting to slide and her daddy was capable of sliding. He'd had one bad day, where Margaret was having a bad day everyday. Hawkeye had to do something. But what could he do? He owed it to his family to keep everyone well. He still had Sidney's business card. Perhaps he could give him a call. The problems were not going away. Margaret was crying every day, even though she thought no one could hear her. Neither of them were sleeping or eating very well. Something needed to change, and it needed to happen soon. Margaret was suffering, and Hawkeye was suffering, but it was Shiloh who would suffer the most without two healthy parents. Hawkeye would do anything, even if it meant spending time in the funny farm, if it meant protecting his daughter.

But it wasn't himself that he was worried about. It was Margaret. What would Sidney do to Margaret? Would she have to spend time locked up? It would kill her to be away from her baby! Something was not right with his wife, and it frustrated him to no end to see her like that. The only other person Hawkeye ever heard of this happening to was Sheila Walters. She was put in the hospital and declared an unfit mother. And that was not going to happen to Margaret. Maybe if he just waited it out a little bit longer she might pull out of it. This could not last forever. No, Hawkeye decided, it would be too risky to involve anyone else. It would be best to wait it out. Margaret was strong. She would pull through this.

"See, she's just fine!" Daniel smiled as he held baby Shiloh, dressed in a pretty lacy pink dress. "We're good to go. Why don't you take your shower, Margaret? I have things under control now."

"I think I will. And then you two will have to be off. I'll be right back down. Be a good girl for mommy." She kissed her daughter on the forehead, who watched her mommy's every move.

As Hawkeye watched his wife interact with their child, he recognized that she was doing everything she could to keep it together. And it couldn't be easy. He really did not know what to do. Did he call Sidney for himself, for Margaret, for the both of them? As he heard the water start, Hawkeye made up his mind. The psychiatrist must be called in. There was a medical decision to be made, and Hawkeye was a doctor. Margaret was having problems, and it was time to call in the expert. Sidney was a trusted friend, and could be counted on to help out as much as possible. When Hawkeye had been hospitalized the goal had been to return him to the unit as quickly as possible. Maybe that would be the same goal for women. It would have to be, wouldn't it? There was only one way to find out. During his break at lunch Hawkeye Pierce would be calling Sidney Freedman.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm sorry that I haven't updated in so long. I imagine most of you have forgotten about this story, but it's a story I really wanted to tell. After two viewings of GFA this week, inspiration struck once again. I hope you enjoy this.**

Chapter four

"Sydney, hey, it's Hawkeye. How the hell are you?"

"Hawkeye," an amused Sydney greeted his friend. "Shouldn't it be I who asked how you are doing?"

"You shrinks never stop do you?"

"That good, huh?"

"Yeah, things are great. Margaret and I are the proud parents of a baby girl. Her name is Shiloh Olivia…"

"The gift of peace," Sydney translated.

"Yeah, how did you know? Been browsing through the baby books?"

"Let's just say I've been around. How are you handling things?"

"Oh, so far I've been okay. She's healthy, Margaret's healthy, and I…"

"Yes?"

"I've been better. I don't know what's eating me, doc. I have everything in the world to be thankful for. I did what everyone told me to. I settled down, I'm staying with Dad but am saving for my own place, I experienced one of the true joys in life- the birth of a child. You'd think I'd be on top of the world."

"But you're not."

"Am I that transparent?" Hawkeye asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

"I know you well. We've been through a lot together, you and I," Sydney reminded him, as if Hawkeye needed reminding.

"Yeah, we've been through hell and back. Although sometimes I wonder if I completely made it back."

"That's understandable. War is hell. And you experienced in a short time what normal people never have to see in a lifetime. You probably did leave part of yourself in Korea."

"Like my marbles?"

"What's going on, Hawkeye? Are you having flashbacks again?" If Sydney was alarmed, he didn't let on, but Hawkeye cringed at the memories that Sydney was referring to.

"Yeah. No. I don't know. I caught myself doing the chicken spiel the other day, and that made me think of things…things I'd rather not think about. How's that for life being grand?" Hawkeye asked bitterly.

"You know, I have some vacation time coming up, perhaps I could plan a trip to Crabapple Cove?"

"I don't know if that's such a great idea. If Margaret knew I was talking with you she might start to panic."

"How is Margaret doing?"

"She's got her hands full that's for sure," Hawkeye admitted. "The baby's good but still any new mother can get overwhelmed if they let themselves."

"I really think a trip out there would be a good thing. Let me handle Margaret…"

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to sleep with her. Or not sleep, depending on Shiloh's mood."

Sydney chuckled. "I'd say you definitely have your hands full. I'll see you next week."

"That soon, huh? Seems like in more trouble than I thought."

"You're not in trouble, Hawkeye. You just are experiencing a major life event. Everyone needs a visit from a long lost friend now and then."

"Okay, but I'm sure Margaret won't like it."

"Then don't tell her. Let me just show up at your doorstep. I'm sure Margaret will be too polite to turn me away."

"Are we talking about Margaret Houlihan? Maybe you should get to know her after all."

As Hawkeye said his goodbyes and hung up the phone, he wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into this time.


	5. Chapter 5

Hawkeye watched Margaret sleep, and for once in his lifetime he was happy for silence. There was obviously a void in their lives, one in which no one dared talk about, but he strangely found himself at a loss for words. Something was wrong with Margaret, he was sure of that, but he had no idea what it was. Having a child was hard work, but who would have thought that it would have been harder than surviving a war? Margaret was the strongest person he knew, and though he tried time and time again to push it to the back of his mind, he knew that something just wasn't right. Babies were supposed to bring happiness and peace, not irrational moods and crying (on the mother's part- obviously infants did what they were supposed to do). As much as he wanted to broach the subject with his wife, he found that he was at a loss for words. She was a good mother- there was no doubt in his mind of that. But he'd found himself wondering where he'd gone wrong, and the thought troubled him to no end.

A father. Who would have thought that he'd find himself a parent at this stage in life? It wasn't expected, but it wasn't a total surprise either. That was just something that happened to married couples. He had to admit, when she first told him about the pregnancy, his first thoughts weren't of joy and happiness, but of doubt and confusion.

"_Hawkeye, we need to talk."_

"_Talk away. I'm all ears. Actually do you know who is all ears? B.J. He only grew that caterpillar so that he could connect his ears, which were even bigger than his feet. And the man had huge feet? Can you imagine B.J. back home trying to buy winter hats and boots? They'd have to order them from the circus!"_

"_Forget B.J. If you miss him so much why don't you call him?" Margaret demanded._

_What Hawkeye didn't want to admit to was that he didn't want to call B.J. B.J Hunnicutt was just another reminder of the most painful time in his life. As much as he tried to forget the blasted war, reminders would creep up from time to time. He tried to forget, tried to forgive, but as hard as he tried, remembering the war meant remembering all of it- his breakdown included. He was still scared from time to time that his mind would play tricks on him. That was the worst feeling of his life, not feeling in control of himself. So if he were to call B.J. that would just serve as another reminder that he was fallible and human, neither of which particularly excited him._

"_I will, I will. I don't see you making many phone calls?"_

"_Who do you want me to call? Frank Burns?"_

"_No. But I'm sure Sherman would like to hear from you. You still haven't answered his last two letters," Hawkeye pointed out._

"_I will. I've just been so busy."_

"_I'm busy too!"_

"_Well things are about to get a lot busier for the two of us. Or should I say three of us."_

_He looked at her in disbelief. "Margaret, what are you trying to tell me?"_

"_What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm pregnant. Don't worry, I don't want it as much as you don't, but here it is. I suppose we'll just have to deal with it."_

_He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Margaret- pregnant? At this stage of his life that was the last thing he'd expected. But he could see that she was confused, so it was time to do what he did best- put on a strong front and pretend that everything was okay._

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yes. According to the doctor I'm three months along."_

"_Margaret," he grinned. "That's wonderful! Can you picture us as parents? Kind of a scary thought if you stop to think about it. But this calls for a celebration!" He ran over to hug her, which she at first wasn't into, but seeing the joy on his face relaxed her a bit._

"_Now don't you think you ought to call B.J." Margaret laughed._

"_You know what? I think I will…Sherman, Beej, Trapper, hell, I'll even call Radar. This is terrific!"_

_So he made his first call, first informing B.J. That night was the first night his dream hit him that night. Korea, a baby, a bus….he actually woke up in a sweat, but looked at his wife who was blissfully sleeping beside him. He would be okay. He had to, for Margaret's sake._

**TBC**


End file.
